


What Lies Ahead

by Mandycakes



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:23:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandycakes/pseuds/Mandycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There. She'd done it. Allowed herself be vulnerable around this man for the millionth time since his arrival in town. No one else, except maybe Corbin, had ever gotten that privilege." Follows the events after "Golem". Ichabbie, obviously ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Hello all!** **I absolutely adore this show and am wholeheartedly shipping Ichabbie. This may be either a stand-alone one shot or a series of linear one-shots. Follows the events of 1.10.**

* * *

Abbie and Ichabod drove back to Corbin's cabin in silence, each of them processing the message Moloch had delivered. The look of sheer terror she'd seen at the station on Crane's face made her heart race. She gripped the steering wheel tighter and released a tense breath.

Ichabod chanced a glance over at her, seeing the tension not only on her face, but in her posture.

"Lieutenant?" he said softly, clearing his throat, "are you alright?"

Abbie shifted in her seat somewhat, her eyes briefly meeting his. She needed to stay strong. He already had enough on his plate, what with learning his wife was a witch who beared a son he'd never know. And now he was supposed to deliver her soul to Moloch? No. She wouldn't give in to the fear she felt. Because she knew once that happened, she'd let her guard down. That's what Moloch wanted, right? Well it wasn't gonna happen.

"Miss Mills?" she heard him speak her name again, interrupting her train of thought.

"I'm fine, Crane. Just...processing things," Abbie said, never taking her eyes off the road. Ichabod watched as she squared her shoulders again, her doe eyes showing resolve. Anyone else would've left it alone. But these last few weeks with Miss Mills had taught him better. He'd learned to read her quite well. Perhaps telling her everything Moloch had said wasn't the best route. Then again, she was his fellow Witness. His friend. His confidant. He hadn't any other choice but to tell her.

They pulled into the driveway of the cabin, Abbie putting the car in park and shutting the engine off. She leaned back in her seat, staring down at her hands. Anywhere but into Crane's eyes. She couldn't bear to see it again.  _It_  being pain, anguish, and fear. She couldn't bear it because deep down, beneath the tough facade she'd perfected so well over the years, she felt the same way. And if she admitted it, she just might crumble.

He gazed over at her, trying her best to look occupied at her fingernails. He reached over to her, covering one of her small hands with his own.

"Abbie..." her name escaped Ichabod's lips easily, his voice soft on her ears. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. She finally turned toward him, the tone in his voice compelling her to do so.

"It's going to be alright, you know," he promised, his blue eyes boring into her brown. She felt her eyes welling with tears, cursing her emotions for getting the best of her. "I know you're frightened. I'm afraid I'm to blame for that. But I'm certain that we can overcome this demon. Together." Abbie blinked away unshed tears, averting her eyes briefly to compose her thoughts.

"Crane...I'm scared." There. She'd done it. Allowed herself be vulnerable around this man for the millionth time since his arrival in town. No one else, except maybe Corbin, had ever gotten that privilege. Her unwavering trust in him went against the rules. Against everything she'd learned in life after being abandoned by so many. Four months with an 18th century stranger and she'd foolishly forgotten those things.

"I know," Ichabod squeezed her hand, noting how perfectly it fit in his. "I am as well. But I give you my word, Miss Mills. I won't let any harm befall you. Not as long as I'm alive and breathing."

Abbie nodded in understanding, the sincerity of his words causing her fears to subside somewhat. "Thank you, Crane. That means a lot to me." Abbie replied, glancing at their still intertwined hands. It felt safe in his. Secure. And something else she wasn't quite ready to decipher yet.

Ichabod cleared his throat, giving her a small grin and breaking her train of thought. "Well...I'll see you tomorrow then?"

She smiled back at him, slowly removing her hand from his, noting how cold it suddenly felt.

Abbie found his cobalt eyes unwavering, still watching her. She felt her stomach do an odd flip.  _Nerves,_ she mused. "Yep. Tomorrow."

* * *

**I'd love to hear what y'all think!**

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Easy, Lieutenant," Ichabod warned, his right arm snaked around her securely as she gingerly stepped out of the car.

"I said I'm okay, Crane," Abbie replied, looking up at him ready for a smart remark. The throbbing in her right ankle kept her from doing so.

Another day, another fight with an evil dweller in the forest. She'd gotten her foot caught in some stupid hole running from the beast and heard a small pop. Ichabod was right on the monster's heels, and had expertly delivered a fatal blow to the back of its head before it's claws slashed through her skin. At the time, adrenaline had dulled the pain, but after the thirty-minute drive back to Corbin's cabin, it was damn near unbearable.

She managed to put most weight on her left leg, letting Crane close the car door. Crane glanced down at her, seeing her wince in pain with every step.

"Almost there, Miss Mills," he reached for the keys, opening the door and guiding her inside. Crane removed his arm from around her momentarily. "Alright, let's have a look at that foot of yours-" he began, seeing her start to protest.

"It's fine, Crane. Really. See?" she attempted to stand flat-footed for him, forcing her best smile. It hurt like hell.

"Miss Mills, I insist," he placed his hand on the small of her back, attempting to guide her to the couch.

"It's getting late. You really don't have t-"

"Lieutenant, either you lie on the couch yourself or I'll pick you up and place you there. Which would you prefer?" he asked defiantly, searching her brown eyes.

Abbie paused at this question, slightly amused at what that might've implied under different circumstances. But this was Crane we were talking about. If the constant throbbing in her foot would allow her to think clearly, she might've found his concern endearing. With that adorable way he looked at her and- no. She wasn't really thinking that.

"You know what, you are  _so_  arrogant," she removed her coat before hobbling around him to the couch. Crane watched her, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"So you keep telling me," he hung his coat on the rack, heading towards the kitchen. "Would you like some tea?" he asked, gathering some ice for her ankle.

Abbie rolled her eyes. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he enjoyed getting under her skin. "No, thank you. Maybe just some water," She replied, forcing herself must've had some ibuprofen stashed somewhere in his bathroom.

"Umm. Crane," she turned in the direction of the kitchen, leaning into the worn cushions.

"Hmm?" Crane gathered ice, placing it into a cloth.

"Could you get some medicine for me out of the bathroom? It should be in the cabinet above the sink," she asked. "Of course," Abbie heard him move into the adjacent room.

"The label will say, 'Advil' or 'Ibuprofen' if you were wondering," she raised her voice, hearing the sound of something hitting the tile floor. "Found it!" he replied. She smirked, hearing the smile in his voice and his footsteps draw nearer.

"Here we are," Ichabod returned to her line of sight, carrying a bottle of water and ice and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "Miss Mills are these medicines safe? I was glancing at the warnings on the label…"

"They're fine, Crane," She reassured him, taking the bottle from his hand, "it'll help with the swelling and pain." Abbie placed three small pills in her hand and took a few gulps of water. Crane watched her curiously, knowing he'd have to take her word for it.

"Alright then. Now… let me see your feet," he motioned toward them. She placed some pillows behind her for support, lifting them up as she was told and resting them on his lap. "What did you call these shoes?  _Booties_  was it?" Ichabod raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yep."

"Mmm. How appropriate," he remarked. Abbie watched as he finally located the zipper, gingerly sliding it off her injured foot. She let out an audible gasp when he removed her sock. The top of her foot and outside of her ankle was extremely swollen and turning purple.

"Looks like I really did it this time, huh?" she remarked, wiggling her toes with some discomfort.

"Quite the understatement," he remarked, lightly grazing under the hem of her jeans with his thumb. "May I roll these up for you?" his eyes found hers. "Mmm hmm," she nodded, ignoring the sensations coursing up her leg at his touch.  _What was going on with her today?_

Crane grazed his eyes along the length of her leg toward her toned thigh, admiring how shapely it was and careful not to let his fingers linger too long on her silky smooth skin. "How on earth did you get these trousers on?" his blue eyes met hers, perhaps asking that question to distract himself from the growing curiosity that had him wondering what her legs looked like uncovered.

She stifled a laugh. "They're called skinny jeans, Crane. They're  _supposed_  to be form fitting. It's the style," She stated simply, his eyes exuding amusement. They did fit her form quite nicely, he noted, feeling his cheeks get warm. Abbie watched as he skillfully rolled her jeans up an inch and smiled inwardly at his blush, wondering what he was thinking. She'd already had a detailed conversation explaining shaving customs of women nowadays, so surely that wasn't the cause.

He held her small foot in his hand, examining the back of her ankle for further bruising. Abbie surmised from the way her calf felt that she might've suffered a high ankle sprain. A trip to the doctor was in order tomorrow.

Crane placed a pillow on his lap, propping her foot on it and holding the ice there. "Does that feel alright?" he asked, his voice soft to her ears.

"It does. Thank you," she grinned, feeling him grab at her left bootie and pulling it off as well.

"I obviously am behind on ladies' fashion trends, but perhaps next time we're running from demons, another shoe might be more appropriate? One without a heel preferably?" Ichabod watched her chuckle, and she gave him a look that was supposed to be stern, but showed nothing but fondness in her doe eyes.

"Mmm. How about I think about doing that if  _you_  think about wearing those clothes I bought you?" she suggested. He let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, since I don't care to take a chance of you injuring your  _other_  ankle, I'll comply. I can't imagine us having much success fighting Moloch if I have to carry you in my arms. You have yourself a deal, Miss Mills," he smiled down at her, watching her stifle a yawn.

"Do you care to watch one of the plays on the television?" he motioned toward the TV.

She shook her head, "I'm fine, Crane. Gonna rest my eyes for a second and then hit the road," Abbie yawned once more, settling into the worn cushions.

Ichabod sighed, shaking his head and reaching for a novel he'd been thumbing through. "I'd think it wise to not to put any stress on this ankle for awhile. Why must you insist on being so stubborn?" he frowned and glanced over at her, noting her eyes looked a little heavier than before.

"You know why. Stubborn is my middle name," Abbie smirked groggily at the puzzled look on his face. "Just messing with you, Crane. I won't go anywhere tonight. Promise," she told him before he could say anything else.

He looked satisfied with her answer and opened his book back up. "Maybe after you've rested your eyes, you can move into the bedroom and I'll take the couch. The mattress is  _quite_  comfortable, I must say," his eyes scanned the worn pages for where he'd left off.

"Mmm," was the sound that escaped her lips. He glanced back over at her after a few moments, expecting a witty retort on why she was going to stay put on the couch. Her eyes were closed, one hand resting on her abdomen and the other tucked between herself and the sofa.

"Miss Mills?" Ichabod said her name softly, her light breathing the only response. He felt a small smile tugging at his lips. She wasn't 'hitting the road' at all it seemed, her body finally succumbing to the fatigue of the last few days.

Ichabod caught himself staring at her then, the light from the dying fire illuminating her features, making her look peaceful, angelic almost. A few locks of her thick hair had fallen over part of her face, and before he could stop himself, he'd reached over, lightly moving it aside with his thumb. He sighed for the second time that evening, this time because of the thoughts running through his head. Not entirely unwanted thoughts per se, but ever present, and so persistent they were.

His eidetic memory had long ago learned the curve of her cheekbones, fullness of her plump lips, and dark round eyes that he feared he'd lose himself in if he wasn't careful. Miss Mills was breathtaking. He was well-aware. He did have eyes, after all.

Despite his most earnest attempts to ignore her beauty, sitting here beside her without the worry of someone noticing he was staring allowed him time to mull things over in his head.  _It was just an innocent observation,_ he thought. The growing fondness he felt for his partner was simply due to the gratitude he felt for getting him acquainted with the 21st century and becoming a trustworthy friend.

Certainly that's all it was.

He closed his book and craftily moved off of the sofa, being careful not to manipulate her ankle too much. She didn't stir as he grabbed a nearby throw and covered her with it, making sure her foot remained elevated. He leaned down to place a light kiss on her forehead, then hesitated when he thought better of it, standing upright and grabbing the nearly melted bag of ice off her foot.

"Sleep well, Miss Mills."

* * *

**This chapter was a bit longer than I intended, but I didn't think y'all would mind! It kind of took on a mind of its own ;-)**

**I almost wrote Ichabod carrying her into the bedroom for sleep (since he mentions carrying her twice in the chapter) but I thought that might've been too much right now. Appreciate your feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

Abbie woke with a start, darkness surrounding her.  _Where was she?_  She sat up slightly, the throbbing in her ankle reminding her of her surroundings.

She suddenly heard the floorboards creak behind her. Abbie shifted, turning her head toward the sound.

"Crane?" she didn't recognize her own voice. It sounded small, scared almost. No response. The floorboard creaked again, this time she swung her legs over the end of the couch, carefully standing on the non-injured foot. Turning, she peered into the darkness.

"Crane?" she asked again, her voice louder this time. Abbie felt her pulse start to race, the uncertainty of it all making her nervous. She reached for the switch on the lamp nearby, but it wouldn't come on. She grabbed for the gun she'd placed on the coffee table, hobbling a few steps toward the noise.

Abbie listened carefully, wondering if her ears were playing tricks on her or if she really heard someone breathing. Swallowing hard, she cocked her gun in the direction of the sound.

"Who's there?!" No response. Wincing in pain, she moved the few steps into the kitchen, feeling for the switch on the wall.  _Click_. But no light. The floorboards creaked again, this time it sounded closer. Abbie felt herself shaking, unable to move from the wall.

And in an instant he was inches from her face—the horns, dark hollow orbs, curling long slender fingers inching around her neck. Moloch.

"Soon…very soon..." he snarled, the grip around her neck tightening. She reached for his hands, attempting to loosen the grip.

She struggled to breathe, feeling herself getting dizzy, the floor beneath her slipping away…

Abbie let out a small cry, sitting up straight on the couch, pulse racing while she gasped for air. She glanced around frantically, realizing she'd been dreaming. Abbie untangled her limbs from the soft cover draped over her.

She was relieved to find that the room wasn't completely cloaked in darkness this time, with light emanating from the dying fireplace. Hearing the floorboards creak behind her she turned around fearfully, starting to reach for her pistol.

"Lieutenant?" Crane appeared a moment later, concern etched on his features.

"Crane," Abbie sighed, feeling her resolve weaken and warm tears spring to her eyes. She carefully moved her legs off the couch, giving him room to sit beside her.

"Lieutenant, I heard you scream…are you quite alright?" Crane's worried gaze searched hers. Abbie met his eyes and looked away, shaking her head as if to rid it of the images still there. She covered her face with her trembling hands, choking back an involuntary sob.

Ichabod furrowed his eyebrows, wrapping a comforting arm around her narrow shoulders and pulling her to his chest.

"Shh…it's alright," he guided his hand along her back. Abbie was no stranger to near-death scenarios. She was after all, a police officer. She'd been held at gunpoint and was nearly shot twice in her career. But something about this…the unknown- the possibility that she would forever lose her  _soul_ \- shook her to the core.

"It was awful, Crane," she cried against his chest, fresh tears wetting one of Corbin's old t-shirts he'd been using as a nightshirt.

"You had a nightmare." He'd said it as more of a statement than a question. He knew. The look in Abbie's eyes…he'd seen it before.

"I saw him…he was here. Moloch," her voice was soft to his ears, partly muffled by his shirt.

"He was trying to kill me, Crane. I couldn't breathe," she sniffed, clutching onto him for dear life.

Ichabod pulled away from the embrace the slightest bit to look down at her. He tilted her chin up ever so slightly so he could look into her bloodshot eyes.

"I know these words may not offer much comfort, but I promised you…" his eyes locked with hers, his words trailing as he caught a tear sliding down her cheek, wiping it away with his thumb. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Abbie felt her pulse increase, his eyes blue pools threatening to swallow her up. She cleared her throat.

"I…I know," she looked away, moving inches away from his touch. The skin on her cheek burned where he had touched it.

"You don't know how much that means to me," she admitted quietly, her eyes cast downward as she tugged on her shirt.

Ichabod felt his cheeks get warm, moving the hand resting on her back to his lap. He'd made her uncomfortable. That was the last thing he'd intended to do.

"But there was something else. Before I woke up…I saw- a brief vision I guess," she met his eyes once more, breaking his thought.

"What became of it?"

Abbie let out a shaky breath, before continuing. "I saw…the demon. He had me- or someone that looked a lot like me- hoisted over his shoulder. He was carrying me into this darkness. It was so foggy. And I saw you…on the ground. You were hurt and trying to get to me, but you couldn't. And Katrina. She was…there as well."

Ichabod listened to her words intently, an unpleasant feeling creeping into his chest that he couldn't place.

"What? Was she-"

"Crane," she interrupted, slipping her hand over his, "she was standing over you. Just- standing there. Like she was in a daze…"

Ichabod lifted a eyebrow, trying to decipher meaning in all this. "What are you saying?"

"She wasn't trying to help you. I almost think…" she shrugged, suddenly at a loss for what to say.

"You think, what Lieutenant?" Ichabod steadied himself for the answer.

"I think she may have been the one that hurt you."

* * *

**Don't hate me that I ended it here... Please review! I know where I want to go with this, but I may ask someone to beta a chapter for me because I'm HORRIBLE (or at least I'd assume so) at writing fantasy/sci-fi stuff. I have trouble visualizing it to write it. So…yeah.**

**I also don't want y'all to think I'm writing Abbie as a weakling. She's obviously not, but I think she's comfortable being vulnerable around Crane because she trusts him. I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


	4. Chapter 4

Ichabod stared at her a few moments, the earnest look in her doe eyes making her words hard to ignore. Surely she misinterpreted what she'd seen in her dream. Moloch was likely planting these images in her mind. They wouldn't come into fruition. Would they?

"Look Crane," she started to speak again, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I know it sounds crazy. I'm just telling you what I saw." She followed his gaze to the fireplace.

"How certain are you of what you saw? Could it have been a misunderstanding?" he hoped, unable to grasp the fact that Katrina would ever harm him. She sighed again, repositioning herself slightly on the couch.

"I'm pretty certain. But…just because I saw it, that doesn't mean…"

"Rarely have we had dreams that were of no significance, Miss Mills," he countered. She paused. He had a good point.

"But why in heavens name would Katrina ever cause me any harm? That makes not the slightest bit of sense," Ichabod ran a tired hand over his face, standing from the couch. He meandered over to the window, admiring the moonlight peeking in through the blinds.  _It certainly wouldn't be the first time he was surprised by Katrina since he'd awoken in this century._

"I don't know if I'm certain of anything about my wife anymore, Lieutenant. Things have just gotten…so complicated."

Abbie watched him from where she sat, the tension in his shoulders evident as he crossed his arms over his chest. She wanted to go to him then, wrap a comforting arm around him and tell him she was wrong, that she'd imagined it all and that the woman he loved with all his being was as pure as he'd once thought her to be. Maybe then she wouldn't have to see the wounded look in his eyes. Maybe then, it wouldn't affect her so.

She swallowed over the lump in her throat, the two sitting in silence for several more minutes, as she allowed Crane to lose himself in his thoughts. She finally opened her mouth to speak, but his words reached her ears first.

"Perhaps we should try to get some rest, Lieutenant," he told her, slightly turning away from the wall to glance at her. Her tired eyes met his in the dim room, and she nodded in agreement.

"I insist you take the bed this time. Not only because I'm a gentleman, but perhaps to keep the nightmares at bay," he held out his hand, a small smile playing on his lips.

Abbie took a glance at the couch. It was just long enough to fit his tall, lanky frame. A fully rested, stubborn Abbie would have been ready to protest, but the reality was she was far too tired for it.

"Okay." She placed her hand in his as he guided her upward. She leaned most of her weight into him, feeling his arm snake around her back. He flipped the switch on as they reached the bedroom, his grip on her loosening a bit as she sat on the end of the bed.

"Are you going to be alright Lieutenant?" he clasped his hands behind his back, his blue eyes resting on her.

"I could ask the same of you," she replied, avoiding the question. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Ichabod frowned slightly, shaking his head. "You needn't apologize for anything. I just wish we knew what it all really meant," he said wistfully.

"Me too," a sigh escaped her lips.

"You still neglected to answer  _my_  question…" he searched her doe eyes, watching her shoulders give a shrug.

"I'm gonna be okay, Crane. Everything will," Abbie said resolutely, wondering whom she was trying to convince. She stood slowly, wincing a bit as she leaned over the bed to pull back the covers.

"Alright then," he said, picking a pillow up off the floor that must've fallen in his haste to check on her earlier. She still seemed a bit shaken. But he wasn't going to press the issue.

"Well…goodnight again, Miss Mills," he stood there for a few moments, the hands resting behind his back twitching nervously, perhaps trying to keep pace with his thoughts.

"Crane," she started, her eyes avoiding his. He raised an eyebrow, wondering why she suddenly seemed bashful.

"Would you mind…maybe- lying down with me for awhile? Just until I fall asleep?" Abbie found herself blushing under his surprised gaze, watching as he struggled to find a response. Crane knew he shouldn't have been flustered. It was the 21st century, after all. Men and women shared close quarters all the time without romantic implication. Clearly that was the case here. He swallowed hard.

"I mean- the bed is queen size. You wouldn't even have to touch me…" she paused, realizing how that sounded. "Not that I would  _want_  you to. I'm just saying- I mean I'm not repulsed by your touch or anything-" she faltered, attempting to use her hands to explain. She rolled her eyes at her antics, running a hand over her face, "can I start over?"

Crane found himself letting out a small laugh. He'd never seen her more flustered than he. Actually, he couldn't remember when he'd seen her this way. It was refreshing.

"Are you laughing at me?" she placed her hands on her hips, feigning offense. She laughed at herself, smiling broadly at him. He took a moment to cherish it. After her tears earlier, it was quite a welcome sight.

"I'm obviously delirious," Abbie sat down, laughter subsiding.

"Oh? Is that your excuse?" he replied, heading towards the door.

_So he'd decided to stay on the couch._  A strange feeling filled her senses that felt a lot like disappointment. It was absurd to feel that way, really. Must have been the fatigue talking. Ichabod flipped down the light switch, walking back toward the bed.

"Yes. That  _is_  my excuse," she slid under the covers, falling back onto the soft pillow and turning on her side. She watched his silhouette as he settled down beside her, being sure to stay as close to his edge of the bed as possible while lying on top of the sheet and pulling the comforter up. She turned on her side, facing him as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Thank you for staying, Crane." Her soft voice hung in the air between them, which had suddenly gotten thick. Ichabod realized then he had been holding his breath.

"You're welcome, Miss Mills," he said, hearing her settle into the mattress.

"Night," she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Goodnight," he replied, stifling a yawn.

Ichabod let his body relax, the sound of her steady light breathing assuring him she was out. He closed his eyes briefly, realizing lying beside someone other than Katrina wasn't as scandalous as he thought it would be. He was quite comfortable actually. His eyelids fluttered open the slightest bit, eyes resting on Abbie again.  _He'd just rest here for a few more moments_ , he told himself, heavy eyelids closing themselves once more...

Abbie leaned on the crutches for support as she opened her apartment door. After what felt like several hours in the emergency room, she'd left with a mild sprain diagnosis and a walking boot. She still felt some kind of way about the crutches, but the doctor said she'd only need to use them for a few days until she followed up with an orthopedist.

She'd left Crane at the cabin that morning after he'd walked her to the car, as she felt he probably needed some time alone. Though, being the gentleman that he was, he offered to escort her. She closed the door behind her and leaned the crutches against the door, dropping her mail on the small table with her keys.

"You're home early. Or should I say late?"

Abbie jumped, knocking some mail to the floor. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. "Dammit Jenny, I could've shot you!"

"I missed you too sis. Relax," Jenny told her, taking a bite of the apple she'd found in the kitchen and collapsing on the couch.

"Whoa. What happened to your foot?" Abbie crossed her arms over her chest. She'd get to the part about why she scared her half to death later.

"Ankle sprain. Hurt myself yesterday running from some…creature," she explained, sitting beside her sister.

"Is that why you didn't come home last night?"

Abbie side-eyed Jenny, the mischievous glint in her eyes meant there was a question behind that question.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I fell asleep at Crane's. I didn't realize how exhausted I was. I mean it was probably for the best, given the throbbing ankle and all," she replied, watching as she bit into the apple once more, a smirk playing on her lips. Abbie decided to leave out the part about them sharing a bed. And her waking up with his arm draped around her. Yeah. She'd keep that to herself.

"What?" Abbie wanted to know what she was thinking. Jenny shrugged, reaching for the remote.

"I didn't say anything. I'm just glad Ichy was there for you in your time of need. That's all."

"First of all, what's that really mean and second,  _please_  stop calling him 'Ichy'," she shrugged her coat off. Jenny smiled, standing to throw the apple away.

"Look, jokes aside...I'm glad he was there to help you. You guys obviously mean a lot to each other." Abbie felt her defenses going up.

"Not  _a lot_. I mean, we're Witnesses. We have to be there for one another. Stop making a big deal out of it," she moved the ottoman closer, elevating her injured ankle.

Jenny watched her sister from the kitchen with an all-knowing look, the flustered expression on her face and her attempt to minimize their relationship just confirmed what she already suspected.

But if she knew anything about her sister, it's that she'd realize these things in due time.

The shrill sound of Abbie's phone broke her thoughts, as she watched her grab the device.

"Hey Crane. I just got back from the doctor. What's up?"

"Afternoon, Lieutenant. I do hope that everything is alright with your ankle," she heard him clear his throat. He sounded weird.

"I'll be fine. I have a walking boot and crutches. But it feels a little better," she replied. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so. The Sin Eater has recently contacted me. He warned me about something of the upmost importance. I'd like to discuss this with you soon. Is there a time that works for you?"

Abbie braced herself for the news. "I can probably be there in 45 minutes. But I don't know if I can wait. What did he say?"

She heard him release a sigh before he continued. "It concerns the second horseman. Two weeks from today, there will be a solar eclipse. He will rise on that day…"

"Wait a minute…two weeks from today? That can't be a coincidence," she glanced toward Jenny, who walked back toward her sister.

"What is it?" Jenny frowned, concerned as the color drained from Abbie's face.

"Crane, I'm gonna put you on speakerphone. Jenny is here," she held the phone out. "He says that the Sin Eater warned of the second horseman rising two weeks from today. During a solar eclipse."

The fear in Jenny's eyes resonated with Abbie. "What is this coincidence you speak of?" Ichabod asked.

"Two weeks from now is thirteen years to the day we saw Moloch in the woods," Jenny explained. Her gaze took on a faraway stare. That was the day everything changed. For the both of them.

"There was an eclipse that day too," Abbie recalled.

"We must prevent this from happening, Lieutenant."

Abbie slipped her jacket back on, walking gingerly to the door and grabbing her keys. "Crane. I'm on my way."

* * *

**I hope this wasn't too jumbled for y'all. I'm going to tie in some plot points from the finale and take it from there ;-)**


End file.
